


C for Effort

by StarryEyedWitch333



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: (it's love), Black Hat also doesn't know how to care for humans, Finally, Flug is relaxing, I'm like super sick right now, Sickfic, So why wouldn't i write something like this, Soup, Soup?, anyways ummm, black hat doesn't know what he's doing or why he's doing it, give the paper bag what he deserves, oh also i'm back, whoopdy doo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 09:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17526227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedWitch333/pseuds/StarryEyedWitch333
Summary: Flug unexpectedly falls ill, and it's up to Black Hat to care for him.





	C for Effort

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm back for now! I got sick, and since I've been bored recently, I've decided to delve back into fanfic writing :P Hopefully, it stays that way, since I do actually enjoy it. I'll try to write/post when I can :) Love you all <3

“G-good morning, sir…”

 

The nasally sound of the doctor’s voice made its way into the kitchen, where Black Hat sat in his traditional chair, that being a throne made from what appeared to be the dyed skulls of the innocent, though the eldritch didn’t look up. Instead, he gave a mere nod and hum in greeting. Why would he do anything else? The villain’s stock market was looking relatively good at the moment. And plus, what did it matter that the doctor sounded slightly off? He was always slightly off. He  _ was _ a mad scientist, after all, and if he ever balanced himself off, Black Hat would kill him in a heartbeat. No hesitation.

 

Well, maybe  _ some _ hesitation. A good scientist was hard to come by, nowadays. There was a reason the good doctor had been specially selected by Black Hat, himself. Flug had been the top of his class by a long shot: He’d have been stupid not to do what was so obvious.

 

A raspy cough left the doctor’s throat, followed by another as he essentially hacked up a lung from whatever was ailing him, drawing the Lord of Evil out of his thoughts, and forcing him to finally give his employee the time of day, a grimace tugging at his lips. Black Hat let his tongue slip through his nonexistent lips for but a moment, catching a whiff of something that made his frown deepen, as if that was possible.

 

The air reeked of the stench of sickness.

“Doctor… are you perhaps trying to tell me something,” he asked, a questioning tone in the growl letting Flug know that it was a question he expected an answer to.

 

Flug stiffened slightly, standing in the doorway for a few more seconds before entering the surprisingly normal looking kitchen, and taking a seat. “N-no sir. I just… well, I thought I’d get some breakfast before heading to the lab for once,” he stammered out, the smell of anxiety drifting into the air and intermingling with the smell of sickness and cereal.

  
“That’s odd,” Black Hat retorted, returning his gaze to the paper in his hands. “I’ve never seen you attend a breakfast since you’ve begun your employment.” He said it as if it was a simple statement, but Flug could tell it meant more than the usual. Black Hat could tell in the way the other froze mid-pour, almost overfilling the bowl with milk. “Are you sure there isn’t something you’d like to say?”

 

Flug stayed silent for a moment, putting the milk back on the table and sealing it before looking back to his employer. The paper bag showed no emotions, but Black Hat didn’t need to see his face. The tremble and fidgeting was enough to clue him in that something needed to be said.

  
And then, the doctor spoke. “W-well… Er, I took my temperature today…”

 

“Yes? And what about it?”

  
“It was… um, 100.2 degrees.”

 

“... Is that all you have to tell me, doctor,” he asked, turning the page to a crossword puzzle, uncaring of what the doctor had to say. 

 

That was, until Flug continued. “That’s… um, it’s higher than the average human temperature. Usually, we’re supposed to have an average temperature of 98.6, so that would mean I’m two degrees highe-” The doctor was cut off by a sudden coughing fit, causing the demon to groan in both disgust and disdain, but mercifully preventing Flug from going on a rant about the human body. As if Black Hat cared. Thankfully, Flug had enough sense to cover his coughs with his elbow, but that still didn’t make the issue any less pressing.

 

“So, what are you telling me, doctor,” Black Hat questioned, filling out the word ‘Devious’ in the crossword as Flug attempted to take a bite of the corn flakes he had poured himself without choking. If Flug told him what he thought he was going to say…

 

“Well, sir… I believe I may be sick.”   
  
Black Hat couldn’t help but guffaw at the notion. Flug?  _ Sick _ ? That wasn’t a thing that simply happened, nor was it something that Flug ever brought up. Even when sick, he’d simply work through whatever was ailing him. If he was bringing it up now, it must be somewhat serious, despite Black Hat’s wishes for it not to be.

 

“What do you want me to do about it? I’m a destroyer, not a healer,” he muttered, penciling in ‘Doldrum’ into another set of squares. Ah, halfway there. Now, if only the human would leave him be, then maybe he could concentrate and make this go a little faster.

 

“O-oh… well then… may I have a sick day?”

 

The words made Black Hat stop in his tracks, giving the doctor an incredulous look. A sick day? A sick day. A day to simply laze around on his ass and do nothing. Something that had never happened before.

  
Flug saw the look in Black Hat’s eye, and immediately began backpedalling. “No, i-it was stupid, just forget I said anything, sir. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have s-said anything, I’ll just go and get to work n-” Another coughing fit stopped him in his tracks, before he put his head in his hands.

 

“... and what are your symptoms, doctor?”

 

Flug looked at Black Hat through his lashes, before letting his gaze fall upon his barely eaten cereal. He was obviously pondering whether he should actually let Black Hat know. Whether it was yet another cruel trick which, honestly, it very well could have been, had Black Hat not been curious as to what the doctor had to say. 

 

“Well? Out with it. What ails you, Flug?”

  
It took Flug a few seconds to respond, and Black Hat was surprisingly patient with him. ‘Melancholy’. He was quite good at this. However, when one was three thousand years old, they tended to know more than the average Joe. He looked up when Flug began to speak once more.

 

“Um… well, fever. Headache, cough, chest pain, nausea…” Another cough. “That’s really about it?”

 

Black Hat stared at the other for a moment, his gaze not being returned, before he let out a sigh. “And I’m assuming this will most likely interfere with your usual work?”

  
Doctor Flug looked up in surprise, hissing slightly at the sudden movement that made his head throb lightly. “Y-yes sir.” Was Black Hat really going to give him a sick day? After all these years?   
  


Apparently so. “Very well. You may return to bed, but only because I feel slightly merciful today. I expect you back on your feet by tomorrow, sick or not. Understand?”

  
Flug shakily nodded, and Black Hat could smell the sickening stench of genuine happiness coming from the human. “Y-yes sir! Th-thank you, sir!” With that, Flug scurried back to his room to rest. And that was when Black Hat realized something.

 

There was no one to care for Flug. He couldn’t trust Demencia to do it, and the bear was still quite small, and certainly not smart enough to count or read, let alone take care of a sick adult. The responsibility would fall onto Black Hat’s shoulders.

  
_ Great _ .

 

* * *

 

What did humans eat when they were sick? A soft growl left his lips as he perused the pantry for literally anything the human could eat, which honestly wasn’t much. There were no fruits or vegetables, barely any meats… Honestly, he was surprised that Flug was still alive at this point.  It was as if the doctor sustained himself with little more than whatever was in the pantry, which appeared to be cereal and canned soup. Nothing more, nothing less.

  
Soup. That was right. They ate soup when they got sick. He was right on this, wasn’t he? Surprisingly, he didn’t want to bother the doctor on this. Not that he would ever want to. He was smart: He could handle this on his own, even if he didn’t need to eat, or breathe, or anything of the sort.   
  
All he had to do was make some soup, and then this illness would pass. It was fairly simple, really. All he had to do was take one of the many bags of noodles that littered the shelves of the pantry, and dump it into a bowl! How hard could it be?   
  
With that, he grabbed a bowl from the cabinet, and, with a snap of his fingers, summoned a random packet of noodles from the shelves. Chicken, it seemed. With that, he snapped the bag open, poured the contents into the bowl, and then set the small packet on top. There. Perfect. He was an absolute  _ genius _ . Who needed directions when one had his superior intellect?

  
Now, to find a proper drink…

 

* * *

 

Flug had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the past two hours. He still couldn’t quite believe it: Black Hat,  _ the Black Hat _ , had given him a day off. Him! The punching bag of the entire mansion! A day off to rest and make sure he recovered. Of course, he didn’t expect this to become a regular occurance. Why would it become one? With his schedule, it would be impossible to take more than one sick day a millenia. And he wasn’t exaggerating, either.

 

In fact, he had a deadline that was due by midnight, tonight, and a commercial to record tomorrow. Maybe that was why his employer had given him the day off? He couldn’t quite direct a video when he was hacking up a lung every time he tried to speak, let alone participate in it.

 

But… This was nice. He had to admit, it was pretty relaxing to not have to worry about deadlines, even if it were just for a day. Probably wouldn’t get paid, but then again, the paychecks were so irregular that he really had nothing to lose. It was usually less than minimum wage, but he got room and board, so he didn’t complain. Plus, unlike some people, he actually valued his life. 

 

His relaxation came crashing down, though, when his employer crashed through his door with nary a knock or any sort of indication that he was coming. Flug jolted up, uncaring for the headache he had, and immediately braced himself for a prolonged, painful death, covering his head with his arms and squeezing his eyes shut.

 

However… it never came. When he finally got the nerve to open his eyes once more, he saw Black Hat with a disgruntled look on his face, looking at him as if he were a nuisance. If he were being honest, that was kind of the case. However, that wasn’t what he was focusing on. What he was curious about was the bowl in his hand, and what appeared to be a cup of water.

 

“Um… s-sir,” he questioned, a confused look on his face with a small hint of fear. Was it poisoned? Cursed? How was he supposed to know it was safe to eat?

 

“You need to care for yourself more often. Finding a scientist is always such a hassle,” Black Hat said, as he lowered the bowl onto the night stand. It was almost as if he cared.

 

Flug couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his face, which immediately made Black Hat groan in disgust, despite his inability to see it. “Ugh. If you’re going to be like that, then maybe I’ll leave you to rot like the sorry excuse of a human being you are,” he growled, ready to take the bowl back.

 

“N-no! That’s… um, I… thank you, sir,” he said, before he finally got a glance at the contents of the bowl: Dry instant noodles, and a flavor packet on top. His smile faltered at the sight, but he looked to returned his employer’s look, albeit wobbly and unsure.

 

His boss frowned at the sight. “What? You don’t like it? I could always just put you back to work, you know,” he said, growl implying that the threat wasn’t a bluff.

 

Flug shook his head, despite the headache he had. “N-no sir! This is… i-i-it’s perfect. Thank you,” he forced out, grabbing the bowl and hesitantly looking down into its contents. No broth. Just cold, dry noodles and a packet carefully placed on top. ‘It almost looks like a garnish,’ he thought to himself, and he had to repress the chuckle that would’ve surely left him, despite the fact that his boss was looming over him, a small frown on his face.

 

The doctor didn’t eat, though. Merely looked at its contents with a smile, though hidden by the bag. It was already quite surprising that his employer would let him take a sick day, but to bring him food to his bed?

 

“I don’t need you to die, doctor. Again, good help is hard to come by, and as much as I loathe to say it, you’re some of the better help I’ve received in the millenias I’ve been alive,” Black Hat retorted, nigh jumping out of his skin. Could he really- “Yes, I can hear your thoughts, you waste of breath. Now hurry up and eat. I’ve got little time for your silly human nonsense.”

 

Flug couldn’t help the grimace that came to his face as he shakily reached into the bowl with his hands, before Black Hat cleared his throat. That drew his attention back to his employer. “Utensils, Doctor. As my employee, you should know better.” With that, he opened the palm of his hand, summoning a spoon and a fork for the doctor to eat with and handing them over.

  
“Y-yes sir. Sorry sir,” he murmured, taking said utensils into his own hands and, with slight hesitance, begun to poke at the dried noodles. How the Hell was he supposed to eat this? It was hard as a rock! Probably tasted like one, too. But who was he to tell his boss that? The being that could easily kill him five hundred times over with a single thought, and would do it without hesitation either.

 

He didn’t have much of a choice, did he? And it didn’t look like his boss was going to leave anytime soon, so there was no option to trash it… He sighed. Okay. He could do this. Just had to break off a little piece, and put it in his mouth. Not hard, right? People did this all the time when he was in Black Hat’s school.  _ He _ did this all the time back then. He simply hadn’t done it in a while, was all.

 

Using his spoon, he chipped off a small corner of the block of noodles, and, after counting to three, shoved it in his mouth under the bag. It took all of his willpower not to retch at the blandness. Hell, even  _ when _ he had to eat ramen like this, he had never liked it, and this was a reminder of that. He always added some type of seasoning, whether it be achiote, or simply the flavor packet. But no: Not this time. He looked to his boss, who was looking at the doctor, grinning deviously.

  
He forced himself to swallow, before nodding at his boss. “Um… delicious, jefecito. Thank you,” he said, hesitantly smiling at him.

 

“Do not take my actions for kindness. I’ve also prepared you a drink. Don’t rush. Rest. I’ll be back in an hour or so to check on you,” his boss said, leaving a cup of what appeared to be water on the bedside table and began taking his leave. However, before he left, he turned back towards the doctor. “If this situation leaves this house, I will personally skin you.” With that, he exited the room.

 

As soon as Flug knew the coast was clear, he took the bowl into the bathroom, and filled it with warm water from the shower. He wasn’t quite hungry, but he also knew that he needed to get something in his stomach. If it had to be instant noodles, then so be it. He set his timer to three minutes, and began waiting, taking a sip from the glass he had been given. And then, he spat it out.

 

Whatever was in there, it  _ wasn’t _ water.

 

He wafted the scent of the ‘water’ towards him, as any good scientist would do, and it hit him: This wasn’t water. It was some kind of alcohol. That’s when it hit him. Vodka? Had his boss literally given him  _ vodka _ ?! What had he been thinking?! That wasn’t exactly something known to cure him! Must’ve been from Demencia’s stash. When (if) she found out, she was going to have his head. He just  _ knew _ it.

 

He sighed. Black Hat was trying, even if he wasn’t succeeding. What else could he do but sit there and take it?

 

As the timer counted down, Flug washed out the cup and filled it back up, this time with actual water. Once the clock hit zero, he climbed back into bed, warm soup in hand and an actual cup of water on his nightstand, letting himself relax. He knew this was a one time thing, but… well, he honestly couldn’t help but hope it happened again. Not that he wanted to laze around! … Okay, maybe a little bit. He rarely got breaks, and there was a deadline every day for the past year. It was nice to just lounge around for a little bit, even  _ if _ he was sick. He’d let himself enjoy it for now.

 

As for his boss… well, he got a C. For effort.


End file.
